


Get Lost On Me

by quingigillion (cartouche)



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic, Kisses, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, pancake day, unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 22:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10146131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartouche/pseuds/quingigillion
Summary: Really, if Dirk thinks hard about things, he's very lucky.And he does think hard. Otherwise there would be no point in thinking at all. Light thinking doesn't solve any mysteries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> can i just say thank you to this lovely and supporting fandom  
> here's a really belated pancake day thing while i struggle with like 4 other wips  
> also i want to say you guys can find me over [here](http://quingigillion.tumblr.com) on tumblr, id really love to answer prompts or things like that, especially to try and overcome writers block!  
> inspired by [a song of the same title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnYG2EOFEDU), give it a listen if u want!!

Really, if Dirk thinks hard about things, he's very lucky. And he does think hard. Otherwise there would be no point in thinking at all. Light thinking doesn't solve any mysteries.

The sun pouring in through the window in broad stripes and glittery dust motes is Dirk's favourite kind of yellow. It tingles in over the slats in the blind and lays in warm dapples on the duvet. It's a yellow that represents everything nice in life; outdoors and picnics and chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles on a hot summer day. Dirk's lucky that he can see it, that he isn't still cooped up deep and dark in a concrete box, somewhere hidden away from the world. But now isn't the time to dwell on that. Right now he has far more important things to do.

The bed is comfortable, and that's another reason Dirk is lucky. Because his muscles ache and twinge, and there's a nasty scrape down his left arm after a rather exhausting run in with carnivorous, cave dwelling iguanas. The sheets rustle over his bruised skin with a careful tenderness, like a mothers caress. As it turned it it was all a happy misunderstanding and the iguanas weren't to blame at all, although communicating that had been slightly difficult. Todd had clung tightly to his hand as he'd dragged him out of the cave and burst back into the real world. He'd torn a hole in his jacket and bright crimson blood had seeped out, and they'd collapsed, laughing.

He supposes, in a way, he's lucky to have the detective agency, although he was _always_ going to be a detective, a really good one too. He's lucky to have friends, Farah, Amanda, even at a push, the Rowdies. And Todd. Dirk is _very_ lucky to have Todd. Todd who is currently squished up against his injured rib cage in a tight, angry ball. Todd with the blue eyes and the hair and the jackets and the lips that could ... Well.  
He feels the other man stir, shifting into wakefulness with bleary eyes and a wide yawn. Dirk's very lucky that he gets to see this. That he gets to plant a soft kiss to Todd's forehead. Todd grunts and stretches and jabs a foot into Dirk's leg only slightly accidentally. He blinks at the sunlight like he's personally offended. It's a shame because Dirk thinks it's really quite lovely.

'Whatime'sit?'

He has to carefully scrabble on the beside table to retrieve his watch. The hands tick dreamily by in a slow, Sunday morning kind of way.

'6 am.' There's a spluttered laugh before Todd lets out a low groan and begins to recurl. It takes a lot of effort to straighten him out that results in a half hug and some very sensitive parts touched. Dirk has to fight a blush. 'Todd, _no_. We're getting up. Don't you have any idea what day it is today?!'

They lie there in a tangle of limbs until Dirk is completely impatient and prods at Todd's side. The other man jolts awake with a less-than-promising scowl.

'Dirk we were almost dying less than 10 hours ago! Can't you just ... let me sleep?' He hears Todd's words tail off with another worrying yawn and is forced to administer another sharp prod. He's faced with a sleepy kind of anger that he's going to choose to carefully ignore. 'There had better be a good reason for this Dirk. A _really_ good reason.'

Of course he has a good reason. Well, he certainly thinks it's a good reason. Todd on the other hand, is looking distinctly less pleased by the prospect of waking up and may not appreciate his reasoning quite as much as Dirk does.

‘Pancakes.’

‘Pancakes?’ Todd is staring at him with large, incredulous eyes and he wants to kiss him really badly, but he doubts it would have any positive impact on convincing Todd. Plus he’s learnt its better to kiss after teeth have been brushed. No offence to Todd.

‘Yes Todd. It’s _Pancake Day_ .’ There’s a splutter, which is not a good sign, and then Dirk is treated to a Todd Eye Roll. It’s not as if Todd should be surprised by this. He knows that after pizza and ice cream, pancakes are definitely Dirk’s favourite food. In fact, depending on the availability of  sprinkles and/or unbranded chocolate spread, pancakes might even pip pizza. Might. Certainly though on a day named specifically for pancakes, there’s no reason not to eat as _many_ pancakes as possible. Which is why it is remarkably important that Todd wake up.

Todd doesn’t seem to be waking up. If anything he appears to be dozing, which is quite the opposite of waking up. Dirk pokes him again, and this time Todd’s groan is exasperated. However some progress seems to have been made as Todd grumbles, and pushes his face into the crook of Dirk’s neck. His breath is hot and it makes him shiver.

‘Fine. We’ll get up.’ Todd’s hands are soft and gentle and run down Dirk’s back. Perhaps a few months ago Dirk would have been caught up in his soft lips and tempting touches, but now he’s wise to Todd’s charms. It takes a large dollop of willpower, but he peels Todd off of him carefully, pushing him back until he can smile broadly at him. Todd looks unamused.

‘Keeping us on track Todd. Pancakes.’ He slides out of bed, half dragging Todd with him, and pulls on his favourite spaceship pyjamas. Todd follows reluctantly, stretching, and Dirk takes a minute to appreciate Todd haloed in the sun’s glow, framed in soft light. He pulls Todd towards him coyly, capturing him in a tight warm hug that makes his heart do strange things, before his stomach gets the better of him and he herds Todd into the kitchen.

The fridge yields eggs and milk and butter, and by the time he’s placed them neatly on the counter-top, Todd has found flour and baking powder and sugar. Todd heats up the pan and waits for the butter to slide golden over the base, while Dirk settles down cross legged on the sofa to watch him. He’s banned from the kitchen after the incident with the aubergine, and he can’t say he’s entirely unhappy about the arrangement. Todd putters around cooking in his boxers, humming a quiet tune under his breath in a husky voice. Dirk can watch his shoulders roll as he smoothly flips pancakes, his hips sway in time with his tune, his hands crack eggs and measure flour. It’s unfair in a way that Todd is so attractive, and Dirk feels a little pang of _something_ flare ugly in his chest. It’s not that he’s jealous per se, but he still worries that one day Todd will see through his shallow mask, and move on for greener pastures.

His stomach rumbles.

Todd’s almost done, a pile of fluffy pancakes piled next to him. Dirk bounces up to retrieve spreads and syrups and all important sprinkles, and they collapse on the sofa together, plates balanced too warm in their laps and pancakes teetering. They’re the same creamy yellow that Dirk loves. Butter drips slickly down the side and he watches Todd carefully smother his pancakes with maple syrup, thick and amber. The sprinkles melt into a psychedelic whorl of colours and the pancakes are sweet and dense, and they eat quietly, cutlery scraping over cracked china. Dirk’s lucky to have moments like these. His ribs ache and the city trundles by outside and the sun creeps higher into the sky. Todd grumbles when Dirk gets crumbs over the sofa and he meticulously gathers up the plates when they’re done, clattering them into the sink.

The apartment is quiet as they sit shoulder to shoulder, radiating warmth at each other. Todd dozes until Dirk pokes him awake. They should brush their teeth, but if he's honest with anyone that might be listening in, he can't bring himself to move. Todd tugs him down softy, and his eyes are as blue as Dirk's favourite slushie. 

Their kisses are soft and sweet and sticky and they remind Dirk of pancakes and sunshine, something golden and bewitching. Todd’s hand is warm through the flannel on his thigh and Dirk thinks he could probably do this forever, universe permitting. Light catches in Todd’s hair, and he has to bite back a soft noise as he pulls away, lips twitching into a wry smile.

‘We should probably clean the dishes.’ There’s a fond note in his voice, and Todd’s hand rises, thumb swiping at smears of chocolate staining Dirk’s chin.

‘Oh, to _hell_ with the plates Todd.’ He melts into his arms like chocolate sprinkles on top of warm pancakes and Todd’s lips part, pliant.

The sun dances over his spaceship pyjamas.

And really, although he’s not able to think properly right now, he _is_ very lucky.


End file.
